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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549130">Who needs patience when you have explosives?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuskFM/pseuds/TuskFM'>TuskFM</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Book of Nile, Explosives, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Loving Marriage, Post-Canon, booker supporting nile in any ways he can including supplying the explosives, well not married but it's a loving and happy relationship anyway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:55:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuskFM/pseuds/TuskFM</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I swear to God I will rip you with my bare hand.” Is the first thing Booker hears as he walks into the living room.</p><p>“Don’t you think it’s a little extreme?” he asks.</p><p>“Says the guy who once flooded an entire safe house because he didn’t want his family to find out he had been putting off doing the dishes for a full week.” Her beautiful face is marred by frustration, her eyebrows tight with worry.</p><p>“Okay, touché.” He concedes, trying as best as he can to hide his smile. “What do you want to tear apart?”</p><p>“This stupid painting.”</p><p>-</p><p>When stuck in an art block and frustrating over a painting, Booker brings Nile the perfect solution in the form of leftover C4 and a trip out of town.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Who needs patience when you have explosives?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is kinda stupid but I had fun writing it so who cares! Nile and Booker being a cute couple and having fun an being great for one another, that’s it. Set vaguely post-movie, post-exile and post them getting together.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I swear to God I will rip you with my bare hand.” Is the first thing Booker hears as he walks into the living room. Mug in one hand, he’s stopped dead in his track as Nile’s jean covered legs peek from under the large canvas resting on the old wooden easel Joe gifted her for her 40th birthday. She sat there early this morning, claiming she wanted to get the best light before it would be gone. She ate the salad he brought her but otherwise she has been in an art trance since then. It’s easy sometimes to see why she gets along with Joe the best, how much of a mirror she can be of him, never the same but so similar in so many points. Their heart of gold, their bright laughter, the absolute urgency in which they’ll spend hours bend over papers scribbling and sketching furiously until they get the picture out of their head.</p><p>Booker stands in the doorway for a bit, not sure what to do. He was only going to fill his mug full of coffee again and go back to the patio to finish the book he started last week, but now he feels like there’s something much more interesting to witness in this room.</p><p>“Don’t you think it’s a little extreme?” he asks and he knows she was still deep in concentration when she startles hard enough for him to see her legs jerk. He watches as Nile slowly lean sideways to look at him past the rim of the canvas. No, not to look, glare at him. He can see the top of her head, the two bun perches at the top of her head and the smudge of blue and purple over her forehead.</p><p>“Says the guy who once flooded an entire safe house because he didn’t want his family to find out he had been putting off doing the dishes for a full week.” Her beautiful face is marred by frustration and anger, her eyebrows tight with worry.</p><p>“Okay, touché.” He concedes, trying as best as he can to hide his smile. “What do you want to tear apart?”</p><p>“This stupid painting.” She sighs and cracks her neck, twist her head right, left then right again. She sighs again at the noise the bones do as they pop. “I’ve been at it for hours and it still looks like garbage.” She’s been getting into the more abstract kind of painting lately, getting interested in the unconscious drawing and going freely without a plan, letting the mind speak without trying to make something precise. She used a lot of impressionist and surrealist elements in her work already but this is like free jumping with no parachute, nothing to hold onto and they talked about it already. Booker knows she’s struggling with letting go of the control and that’s why she’s doing it, she wants a challenge she told him. Doesn’t mean it can’t be frustrating he reminded her a few times already.</p><p>“Let me see.” Booker leaves his mug on the table and walks over to her painting station, stands behind her and crosses his arms as he takes in the painting. He sees what she means. It’s not bad, far from it. The colors are vibrant and the layering she’s done is great. But it’s missing something, the piece of herself she usually put into all of her works. There’s no real life in it, no intentions or emotions despite the layers of paints she applied over the white canvas. He can almost sense the frustration in her all over the painting.</p><p>“So?” She prompts following his silence and he looks down to her where she’s gazing at him half hopeful half daring. And he loves her so much.</p><p>“Maybe you could take a break?” He offers and he winces at the expression she gives him.</p><p>“God, that bad?”</p><p>“Not at all. It’s beautiful. It’s just not you.” Maybe he should explain better. “I know you’re trying something new, but it’s not alive like your other works, you haven’t found how to put yourself in it yet. But I’m sure it’ll happen sooner than you think.” She’s still frowning, but it’s less angry than it was two minutes ago. “Maybe today is not a good day for you. You should leave it alone for a day or two and come back later, clear-headed.”</p><p>“It’ll still be shitty in two days.” She groans but she won’t stop staring at the painting, torturing herself by looking at every tar and flaws she can find in it Booker knows. “It’s useless.”</p><p>“I’m trying to be helpful, and rational.” He knows how it sounds coming out of his mouth. That’s usually Nicky’s business, keeping them grounded. No, Booker is the one to dare and go forth even through obviously bad ideas. It’s not that he’s stupid, it’s just that it’s more fun this way. It spices their life a little.</p><p>“Urgh.” Nile sighs and throws her brush on the table, roughly rub the palm of her hands over her eyes. “I like you better when you’re not trying to be helpful.” And that sentence would usually be said with some kind of innuendo, maybe a wink and a nudge to remind them of the many time they distracted each other out of very important and serious business. The fact that Nile just seems so defeated, so tired is a tell of how bad she’s feeling about this whole affair. Some reassurances and encouragement won’t do, but he might have just what she needs.</p><p>“Mhh.” He hums and step up behind her and gently lay his hands over her shoulders. He tries to not get too emotional over how easily she relaxes. It’s like his touch alone is melting away all the frustration and he has to take a moment before speaking, just to make sure his voice won’t crack. “Then, do you want me to offer the most unhelpful advice?”</p><p>“Sure.” She sighs and lets her head fall back against his forearm, look up at him from under her lashes. “What you got in mind?”</p><p>“I still have some C4 left from the Slatina job. Wanna blow it up?” A second pass, another, and neither move. Booker keeps rubbing his fingers over her shoulders, patient. Then, slowly her eyes crinkle at the corner and a sure grin appears over her face, so blinding that Booker can’t help but smile himself.</p><p>“I like how you’re thinking my dear.” She says, and he leans down to press a kiss over her head, a firm and gentle kiss just because he can, because she’s here and she makes him so happy he can’t help but feel giddy about how simply make her smile is making his heart beat faster.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*</p>
</div>The safe house they’re staying in is located in the suburb of a small city, it doesn’t take them too long to load their car with the painting, the last of the C4 he owns and a couple other things he sneaks in. Barely twenty minutes later they’re at the closed down granite quarry near the city and they unload just as happily the car.<p>Nile finds a big rock to prop the painting against, right in the middle of the quarry and Booker takes care of the explosives. It’s old technology by now, there’s much more performant one with fancy components and online system and whatnot but this is reliable, it’s sure and he still likes to hold the detonator in his hands. Nile would laugh and call him an old man and tease but she never complains about it because it saved them more than once this old tech. The more time passes the more he understands why Andy kept her axe all this time.</p><p>They back off a good couple meters and Booker exchange the detonator in his hand for one of the two plastic goggles Nile took before leaving. Why they even have them he has no idea and he doesn’t ask. He slides them over his nose and stands at her side, elbow to elbow. He wants to watch the painting going up with a boom because that’s a pretty cool thing to witness but he can’t help himself.</p><p>Nile counts backward from five and his eyes are fixed on her. Her face when she presses the button and the painting goes out in a glorious explosion, it’s priceless. Glee and marvel and so much joy, the face of a kid discovering fireworks and rainbow on the same day. It never ceases to amaze him, how she can find delight in anything and brighten the most morose day.</p><p>“Holy shit! Sébastien, did you see this!” She turns to him, smiling wide and dancing on her feet, unaware of his staring. She raises her hand in the hair and they high five, followed by a quick and rough kiss. “Why did I never do this before? It’s a much better way to deal with frustration.”</p><p>“I know.” Booker takes off his glasses and looks at the painting. Well, the pieces of wood that remain of the frame. That’s it, everything else is gone. “Blowing stuff up is a peculiar type of joy too few people get to enjoy.”</p><p>“Oh yeah,” Nile confirms and walks up to the rock to collect the last pieces to throw them away.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>*</p>
</div>They settle in the trunk of the car, one bottle of wine opened between them and the few scraps of food he found in the kitchen before leaving. They’re eating dried fish with the last of the homemade bread and a can of what he thinks is fruits but he could be wrong and it’s the best meal of the week, if only because of the grin that seems to be stuck on Nile’s face.<p>“Thank you Seb. I didn’t know I needed this.” She licks her fingers and settles back against the side of the truck, stomach full and feeling content.</p><p>“Sometimes blowing shit up is the best thing you can do.” He nods like these are wise words. And yeah, they’re not but it’s true and he stands by that statement. He knows Nile does too, had the confirmations many times.</p><p>“Nah, not that. Although that was nice too.” She chuckles and knocks their knee together. “I can be so focused on a project, I sometimes forget to take care of myself. I needed a break, to think about something else.” She looks at the sun going down on the horizon for a moment before turning back to him. “So thank you for taking me out of the house and giving me a reason to have fun.”</p><p>“Anytime my love.” He takes her hand and kisses the knuckles, once, twice, again and again until she tugs him closer and kisses him proper over the lips. It’s not heated, or demanding, or pushing. It’s a slow, sure kiss that doesn’t rush but doesn’t keep the other waiting. It’s a kiss for a kiss’s sake and her hands are soft on his face, gentle and kind like her and he thinks he could go an eternity sitting right there with her.</p><p>“Hey,” Nile says as she presses her forehead to his. “I love you.” And he lays his hand by her neck, let his thumb rub at the soft skin at the edge of her jaw.</p><p>“I love you too.” And then, because he can. “Good to know all I need to seduce you is some explosives.”</p><p>“Hey! I’m not that easy. I also require a good cup of coffee and a handsome man.”</p><p>“How’s my coffee then?” And she snorts, an honest to god snort that sounds like the most divine music to him.</p><p>“You’re so vain.” She keeps her hands by his face and he doesn’t let go either.</p><p>“Am I wrong?”</p><p>“You make a wonderful coffee Book.” And then, because she can. “It’s a shame that beard covers half your face though, we’ll never know if you’re truly beaut—” Her laugh dies out in the kiss and it taste like true happiness.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m on tumblr <a href="https://salzundhonig.tumblr.com/">@salzundhonig</a> if you wanna stop by. We have fun there, and I sometimes post bits of writing before I post on AO3.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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